


Grieving for Mother

by PseudoTwili



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, about mothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoTwili/pseuds/PseudoTwili
Summary: On a rainy day in the graveyard, Link and Koko remember and share stories of their departed mothers.





	Grieving for Mother

The heavy, dark clouds wept with similar vehemence to the tears that choked up the little girl's throat. The sodden ground squelched when she moved more under the canopy of the single tree. Above her head hundreds of raindrops struck the verdant leaves, weighing them down until at last they bent and released their collected moisture. Her own sorrow, hidden behind her hands, was lost to the storm as a single drop in the sea.

With the sounds of the storm around her, and so immersed was she in her grief that she did not hear the flap of fabric and the slight creaking of wood. The first thing she noticed was the sound of something—or someone—landing rather heavily a few paces from her. She gave a little jerk and her head flew up and she immediately recognized the newcomer.

"Oh! Mister Link! You… You scared Koko!"

"I'm sorry…" he replied, slightly breathless.

He tried his best to look penitent, but the girl noticed a funny look on his face, like the time she had burned her hand on the cooking pot. She had to blink away her tears, for thinking of that incident reminded her also of her mother and the tender way in which she kissed and soothed the bumps and bruises, burns and abrasions that her two young daughters acquired. She gasped on her next breath, tears crowding at the corners of her eyes again.

"Wh-what were you doing, Mister Link?" she questioned, her voice cracking on a sob.

He gestured feebly with his hand. "I went up the hill. I thought it would be simple to glide down here, but I guess that wasn't such a good idea after all…"

"Why?"

He made a face again. "To save myself the trouble of having to walk down again."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Koko means, why'd you go up there?"

"Ah. Well, it was to see the castle." He lowered his voice. "I just wanted to make sure it wasn't a dream… Err…do you mind if we take shelter under the tree?"

"Okay," she replied, and sniffled.

As he made his way over, his step was uneven and slow. She plopped herself on the ground, her legs spread out before her; he eased himself down with a little groan and leaned back against the grooved bark, exhaling deeply. Koko looked over at him, a bit of a crinkle to her eyebrows.

"Are you okay, Mister Link?"

"Sure I am. I think I just need a break…and I'm about soaked." He gave a wry smile and indicated his slightly soggy tunic.

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

Getting wet through was not a problem she and the other Sheikah had to face, due to the water-resistant characteristics of their clothing. She gazed down at her garb and her heart gave another painful twist in her chest; her mother had finished making new sets for both Koko and Cottla just a couple of weeks before the Yiga took her life. As her needle had flown in and out of the material, the lady had smiled and remarked at how quickly her little girls were growing.

"Now it's my turn for a question. All right?"

Like the sun piercing a hole in gray clouds, Link's words broke through the emotions encompassing her thoughts. She swallowed thickly and nodded, tilting her face upward slightly so he could better see it.

He drew one knee up and turned partly toward her. "What are you thinking?"

She inhaled a shaky breath and sniffled. For a long moment she watched the rain as it fell in a seemingly never-ending cascade just outside the canopy of their tree. She could barely glimpse the village at the far end of the path.

"The rain… It's like a veil," she murmured, and then gazed down at the ground between her legs. "It hides many things."

"It is like a cloud that obstructs one's vision and chills one to the bone," he remarked in an equally subdued tone. "Yet it is also the moisture that refreshes every growing thing, and it clears the air. Do you remember that fire outside the village, near those ruins in the Rikoka Hills?"

"Yes…"

She remembered how all the men from the village had gone out there to beat back the fire lest it spread to their homes, and Link, who had happened by at the time, aided in quelling it. Afterward, her father had sternly warned both her and her sister from straying from the village, and especially to go anywhere near the blackened ruins. The smoke had remained for more than a week, a long time to one as young as she.

"Only when the rains came was the smell really gone. It was quite a storm, too, but it was worth it, wasn't it?"

She nodded slowly. The farmers had complained of the damage the wind and rain had wreaked on their crops, and both her father and Cado had been busy by helping repair roof leaks and other damage, outside of their regular guard duties. Despite that, every villager was relieved to be rid of the rank, lingering odor of the smoke.

She fiddled with the hem of her garment as she stared into the precipitation again. "Do you think Mother can see Koko's tears…even in the rain?"

"Maybe… What do you think?"

The girl gulped, a few fresh tears slipping down her cheeks like sand in an hourglass. "I guess she probably can," she murmured. "She…she always knew when Koko was feeling sad, like she could see…right into Koko's heart." She broke off on the last word, a fresh sob catching her unawares.

"Mothers are always like that," Link said. "When I did something naughty I could never hide it from my mother. She could take one look at me and just knew. She'd get me to admit to it, but I think she knew the details even before I told her."

"Was she nice?"

"She was the best mother I ever had," he replied, cracking a grin. "Did you know she taught me everything she knew about horses and cooking? Even when I couldn't…remember her, or anything else about my past, I still knew how to cook a good meal for myself and to soothe a fractious horse. I didn't know why then, but it was a comfort to me, something I could do without having to remember."

The girl sniffled again. "Koko's mother was good at cooking too, and she sewed all our clothes and grew a garden. She was always giving the extra things to our neighbors… And she was so pretty. She had long silver hair that she always kept pinned up on her head during the day, but at night she'd let it down and sometimes she let Koko brush it for her." She gasped on another bit of emotion. "W-was yours pretty too?"

A faraway, half-lost look all but spilled from his eyes as he too stared into the rain. "She was beautiful…the most beautiful woman in Hyrule, and I'm not just saying that. She had the infectious kind of smile that always lifted our spirits, and a loud, merry laugh that I could always hear at the other end of the armory. She didn't laugh at my dreams and ideas, though; she always encouraged me to follow the straight and narrow path."

The girl brushed her moist red nose, glancing up at her companion again. "What did she look like?"

"Oh, she had hair like the crimson sky at sunset. Because she was so often outside, she usually had freckles in a swath across her face, especially on her nose. My father called her 'Frecklenose' and in response she would wrinkle that feature. And she was much shorter and smaller than my father, but she could boss him and the whole garrison around as if they were all her wayward little children too!"

He chuckled and she joined in with a hesitant little giggle of her own. She glanced up at him, her cheeks flushed slightly from the tears and emotion she'd spent. She took a long, trembling breath.

"Koko's mother was always really nice, except when she made us eat green vegetables!" She scrunched her nose and mouth into quite the gruesome face. "Koko's mother didn't know how nasty they were."

"Ah, but I bet you eat them now, don't you?" Link queried, a playful quirk catching at the corner of his mouth.

She nodded resolutely. "Yes. Koko has to now, because Cottla has to eat them too. She doesn't like them either."

Resting a hand on her young shoulder, he faced her and, in a tone as grounded as the tree behind them, said, "That is the mark of a great and loving big sister, Koko. I bet your mother smiles down at you from her place in the heavens."

She wept a little more, but then lifted her head and wiped at her face. "I… I-I wish she was still with us…"

Reaching for his hand, she slipped her own fingers between his. He returned her grip firmly but without causing discomfort; his hand shook a bit as his mind drifted over spotty memories of a century gone by. There were many times when he had wanted desperately for everything to be as he'd known it before Calamity Ganon's return. However after much adventuring he'd gradually come to understand that, had he his wish granted, he would have forgone many experiences, fascinating explorations, and the particular friendships he'd made with so many people.

"What do you do when you miss your mother?" she questioned, pulling one leg up and against her chest.

Link shook himself from his wandering thoughts and memories, settling his eyes on the girl. "Sometimes I think of her, and when I'm nearby I go to her grave."

"With flowers?" Koko interrupted, her own thoughts turning to the potted seedling she had all but nurtured to death in hopes of putting it in front of her own mother's grave when the plant was bigger.

"Yes, with flowers," he replied with a nod. He smiled faintly as he pressed his fingers lightly against the damp earth. "I think she must be happy to see her grave is surrounded by the blooms that have grown up over the years. The ones I bring wither away, but the wildflowers persist throughout the harsh seasons."

The girl glanced over at the headstone marked with her mother's name; it was still so new that nothing grew around it. Much as the passage of time had not yet eased her grief, nature and time hadn't yet the opportunity to seed new life around the grave.

"Have you still been coming here every day?" Link questioned quietly.

She started out of her thoughts, her eyes coming to bear with his clear blue ones. She wiggled her feet back and forth and wet her lips. "W-well…" she mumbled, dropping her gaze. "Koko comes some days…on those sad days."

She pulled her other leg against her chest, put her arms around her knees and stared down at the ground. Link shifted his own position awkwardly, a grimace crinkling his features. She seemed to sense his discomfort and looked up, guessing incorrectly the reason for the face he made.

"But Koko remembers what you said. And you can't be sad either, Mister Link. 'Always treasure the memories of your mother, but don't be sad forever. Wouldn't she want you to be happy again, to continue living the life you were blessed with?'"

"Thank you, Koko," he said, his lips curving into a wry smile. "I does me good to be reminded of that sometimes too. I wish she could be here to see that Hyrule is finally at peace…but I think she knows somehow, both her and my father."

"Koko thinks so too," the girl murmured. She loosened her grip around her knees and again took his hand.

"Tell you what we should do," he said, brightening a bit. "As soon as we can after this rain stops, let's do some cooking together. What do you say?"

The girl's sorrowful features also eased, a pleased expression stealing over her. "Oh yes! Koko would love that! Will you try some of Koko's new dishes?"

"Sure," replied he who would consume just about anything, regardless of its apparent edibility. "And we can experiment together. I have a lot of ingredients gathered from every place in Hyrule."

Her eyes grew brighter as her excitement mounted, mirroring the anticipation he too expressed. She was all but bouncing up from the spot, eager to start immediately; however she remembered that they were going to have to wait for a while anyway. She plopped back down and sighed.

"Now Koko wishes the rain would stop."

"It always does," he replied. "Should we just stay here until then?"

"Hm, okay," she agreed, more to please him than from a desire to stay out of the rain.

She had to remind herself to stay calm. After all, she was the elder of the two sisters and she was ever conscious of her determined decision to be strong and to be a good example for her sister. Even so, she still felt and usually exhibited all the child-like emotions one could expect from a girl of her age, however serious she tried to be.

A figure, clothed in traditional Sheikah garb, came splashing through the little puddles on the path to the graveyard. Link recognized this newcomer after a mere moment by the expanse of golden hair pinned up and bulging from her Sheikah headpiece. She spotted both of them and marched over, standing before them and placing her hands on her hips.

"There you are!" she scolded as rain dripped from the brim of her borrowed hat. "Link, what are you doing here? Are you trying to catch your death of cold?! Why'd you sneak out like that?"

"I didn't sneak out," he protested. "I…just left by, erm…unconventional methods."

"The window?" she retorted in the next breath. "Yes, I know. We found it open and rain was pouring in. Now tell me…what are you doing out here in this weather? You're not fully healed, you know!"

"We're only sitting here. Nothing to worry about, Princess."

"But didn't you go up the hill, Mister Link?" the girl asked. However, hardly were the words past her lips that she made a little gasping sound and pressed her hand over her mouth. "Oooh no! Koko is sorry!"

Zelda's eyes flickered to Koko and then centered back on the young man. She leaned forward a bit more, a concerned frown pressing at her lips. "Up the hill? Link, what were you thinking?!"

His back left the bark of the tree and he held up a placating hand. "You can see I'm fine. No harm done."

"But why?" she pressed ever onward. "Why did you have to go up there, in this rain, making us all worry…" She trailed off as she thought of what he might want to see from that vantage point. Her frown eased, her face softened and she lowered her hands. "Were you…were you looking at the castle, Link?"

He gave a sheepish smile and a little shrug that he terminated halfway through with slightly pained twist of his lips. "Ah, I guess you found me out."

The princess' eyes locked on his; she was sure she knew why he'd risked opening a fresh injury—and incurring her wrath. For a moment, her heart seemed to melt as she considered his motive. Suddenly she couldn't blame him at all. In the few days since they had defeated Calamity Ganon, she had to remind herself dozens upon dozens of times that she was living in reality, rather than a dream.

"That was still a reckless thing to do," she said, forcing herself to be stern. "Are you sure you're all right? I… We've all been worried about you."

"I'm sorry, Princess. No need to worry about me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Do you want to sit by Koko?" the girl piped up, beaming up at Zelda rather shyly.

The princess focused on her again, feeling a bit guilty because she'd all but ignored Koko upon her arrival. "Thank you, I will. We'll have to wait until the rain stops, and then you're going right back and getting back in your bed, Link!"

Still feeling a bit awkward in the clothes she'd borrowed from Paya, she seated herself next to the young girl. She hadn't finished marveling at the fantastic qualities of the Sheikah garb. Even now she was quite pleased at how comfortable she felt under the relatively dry canopy of the tree, even though she'd been in the downpour for several minutes.

"What were you talking about?" she questioned, giving the girl a little smile.

"Koko and Mister Link were talking about mothers."

Zelda sobered slightly, detecting the trace of sadness in her tone. "Oh?"

"Yes. You see…my mother is sleeping over there." She indicated the fairly fresh grave. "Sometimes Koko still feels very sad that she's gone. Koko has to be strong…but it's hard."

"Oh, I am sorry Koko," she said, her heart giving a twist. She had only a short time to make friends with the girl, an experience which still made her feel ineptly out of practice after having been suspended outside the physical world while she kept Ganon a prisoner. "But I think I can understand how you must feel… It is very hard to lose your mother. You see, I…I lost mine when I was six years old."

"Do you want to tell Koko about her?" the girl questioned, and placed her warm fingers over Zelda's.

Since her reemergence in the mortal world, physical sensation was like a jolt of electricity, though without the pain that would normally accompany it. The princess relished every moment she could run her fingers along whatever surface or object met them, every sound that chorused in her ears, the taste of food, and the sight of a people and a land that had survived the Calamity. Her own eyes moist, she returned Koko's gaze.

"Oh, I would," she replied after a moment. "Though she was often busy with her duties as queen, she told me she was still first and foremost my mother. She said I could always come to her with anything, no matter what the hour. So one day I found a fascinating little insect in the courtyard and brought it in to show it to her…"

Zelda continued with her story and felt emotions she hadn't acknowledged in a long time. Surprising to her, she found comfort in the release, as if she was able to stand a little straighter and breathe more easily. Then she listened to more stories from both Link and Koko. The three of them sat there under the tree until long after the skies cleared and dappled sunlight drifted down to them through the wavering branches.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I first came to Kakariko Village and met Koko and Cottla, I gradually learned more about them as I found them doing different things during the day. I felt sorry for them when I learned that their mother was dead and that they were both struggling with it in different ways. Then when I learned from their father, Dorian, that the Yiga had killed his wife, I was incensed. After hearing that I was more earnest in soundly dispatching the Yiga "travelers" that I encountered. 
> 
> Written for Mother's Day.


End file.
